Sure, her mother had chastised her. No, not simply chastised, had laid into her for leaving. Lots of nonsense about don't do this, don't do that, you're to stay here, yada, yada. Most of Magdalene told her to listen. Behave, be a good girl. Making mother upset was not something she wished to do, but that other part of her... It was already rebelling. For as much as she wanted to convince herself that her mother gave two fucks about her, there was clear evidence that the only one who mattered to Desponia was only Desponia. So why would she care if one of her nearly yearlings wander off? Would it not be one less stress and annoyance off her plate?
Roiling feelings of hormonal distress and contempt bubbled in her stomach as she stomped. Yes, stomped her way south and east toward the coast. Let her mother follow her and drag her back to Elysium lands. She'd like to see her try! Already, at almost a year old, Mags was nearly taller than her mother and laden tooth to nail with defenses. Her sharpened feline claws easily extracted themselves as she dragged her nails down a tree, stretching her near dire sized body, revealing growing muscle that begged to be built and honed. She even gave her growing antlers a good itch against the tree to not only leave her scent, but also deter the itch that surrounded the skin where the antlers grew.
When she thought she could smell the shore, she picked up her pace. To feel the fluttering of the wind against her fur, to inhale the deep scent of brine and salt, Mags wouldn't deny that she loved looking at it. The waves that leaped up to meet the shore and rock, crashing against it as if it couldn't be held back. In many ways, Mags felt the same. She wanted to be released, to be allowed to be herself. Fuck whoever would hold her back.
Her steps would draw short. No, it was the not the shore she was smelling, but rapids. Teeming with fish and reeds. Brows draw together, fur bristles, frustration clearly written across her facial expression. Well, where the hell was she!? Spinning in a circle, she attempted to search for something, some sort of landmark, that would tell her where to go or how to head back home. Nothing. Not one thing. Just trees upon trees scattering and spreading out from the widening river that grew faster and rougher the farther south it headed.
"Shit," she hisses under her breath, taking a few tentative steps when a masculine voice reaches her. Stopping short, head pulling up and eyes scanning, she sees the alabaster and obsidian male not far off. Though his posture is relaxed and open, she doesn't hold back from holding a more defensive position. Males were dangerous, don't trust them. Her mother had pounded the warning into her head, but maybe he could point her in the right direction to get home.
"Hey you! Can you help me?" Magdalene called out to him, ensuring to keep her distance.
"speech"
